


My Family and Me

by FluffDuckling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-15
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 03:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 39
Words: 16,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3753145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluffDuckling/pseuds/FluffDuckling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little Harry lives in the cupboard under the stairs with his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Cousin Dudley. He has a family and a nice, pretty home, and he is as happy as any little boy could be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Family and Me

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted to my FF account FluffDucklings. This story is slightly AU as it veers slightly off of canon.

The underside of the stairs had a spider on them. He was making a web, a home of his own. Using the light that shone through the slits of the grate on the door, Harry watched him work hard. He worked hard too, but not to make a home, he already had one. No, Harry worked hard to keep his home nice and pretty. That's what Aunt Petunia told him. And no one likes to live in an ugly, bad home so he did all his work the best he could, just like the spider.

Suddenly the grate was slammed shut and Harry had no more light to see the spider, but he kept watching, trying to see if he could hear the spider. He wasn't allowed to be noisy when doing his work and the spider didn't make any noise either, so they were the same that way too.

Harry heard the telly playing in the living room across from his cupboard. His family was watching the evening news like always after finishing their dinner. Harry had been exceptionally proud of this dinner. He hadn't burnt a single thing at all! And he'd made mash, real mash, not the stuff from the box. It took a little longer, but it was well worth it in the end. He'd smiled and told himself how good a job he'd done and then patted himself on the back when his Aunt Petunia was turned away from him.

The tiny light under the door turned off and some dust fell onto his face as someone went up or down the stairs. Maybe his family was going to sleep? He should too. He didn't want to be tired for tomorrow. Aunt Petunia said he was doing garden work so he'd better rest up so he wasn't whining later. Harry thought it was funny of her to say because he never whined. (Dudley did, but Harry would never say that out loud.)

Yawning to make himself tired, Harry stretched as best he could and searched for the least lumpy part of his cot and pillow. He fell asleep with a smile on his face and thoughts of the spider making a giant castle with his silver web while his stomach growled.


	2. Conundrums and Connoisseurs

Harry liked to think of himself as a con-e-sewer of everything. Flowers, food, spiders, and even snakes. (But just the little green garden kinds. He'd never seen a big one before.)

The reasoning behind his expertise was that as soon as Aunt Petunia gave him a chore, he liked to figure out how to do it the best he could. That way he could get a "Good job, Harry!" or "Lovely work, dear," or even a pat on the head like Dudley got whenever he passed by his father.

But he hadn't gotten a "Good job, Harry!" or "Lovely work, dear," or even a pat on the head like Dudley yet, so Harry figured he hadn't gotten his chores exactly right yet, but he was close. He could feel it.

He knew Aunt Petunia liked when all the flowers were straight and grouped together by colour and when he watered the garden just right, with not too much or too little water. Aunt Petunia didn't like mud or yellow leaves.

Harry also knew that Uncle Vernon liked to have the newspaper folded to the business section when he sat down for breakfast every morning. No one had even told Harry that! He'd learnt it all on his own! Now all he had to do was figure out how Uncle Vernon liked his coffee just so, so he'd be proud.

The one thing Harry wasn't a con-e-sewer at was Dudley. His cousin was a total mystery to the little boy. The few things he did know where: 1) Dudley was a whole month older that him so he had to listen to what he said, 2) Dudley was a whole foot taller than him so he had to listen to what he said, and 3) Dudley was a whole thirty pounds heavier than him so he had to listen to what he said.

But, sometimes, Dudley told him to do things that were bad and that he got into trouble for. Like, stealing Miss Fig's cat and hiding it in Uncle Vernon's garage or sneaking Dudley sweets after dinner. And then Dudley would tattle on Harry even though he was the one who told Harry to do all those things and Harry had to listen to him because he was older, taller, and bigger than him. Then Harry would get a spanking and sent to his cupboard with no dinner and lots more chores the next day.

Dudley, to Harry, was a con-dum-drum. And Harry was not a con-e-sewer at con-dum-drums.


	3. Stupid Harry

Harry wasn't very good at school. Actually, he was very good at school. He listened to the teachers and did his work, it's just, he wasn't very good at doing the work right or making friends easy like everyone else.

Aunt Petunia said it was because his parents were stupid and he was stupid like them so Harry blamed his parents for being stupid every time he got a big fat D- on his work. He always wished he was smart as his Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon when he got D-s and not stupid like his stupid parents.

Harry's teacher liked to say he was smart and that it just took a little longer for the work to make sense in his head. Harry thought it was nice of his teacher to say that so he wouldn't feel so bad, but he knew he was stupid and she didn't have to say those nice things. Harry told her that too.

She'd looked at him weird, like, well, like he was stupid, and then she frowned. She asked who'd told him that and he told her his Aunt Petunia said his parents had been stupid so he had in-hair-eated their stupidness, but it was fine, because he was going to try his hardest to be as smart as his Aunt Petunia.

His teacher still frowned and looked at him weird, but she didn't say anything else, just handed him his newest D- and pat his shoulder. (Almost his head, like Dudley got from Uncle Vernon!)


	4. My Family and Me and Randall

In his cupboard under the stairs, when he wasn't watching the little spider who'd made a home on the underside of the stairs, Harry liked to colour pictures of his family.

In fact, if one of his family were to ever come into his cupboard, they would see that it was covered with pieces of paper all with essentially the same thing; a tall lady, a big man, a big boy, and a short boy.

All of them were holding stick hands and standing under a big, bright yellow sun and standing on dark green grass. Sometimes there were flowers or one of Miss Fig's cats in the background. The house on Number 4 Privet Drive was sometimes there, all two stories with attached garage and small garden in the front. Sometimes Aunt Petunia was on the left and sometimes she was on the right, but Dudley and Harry were always in the middle.

Harry was especially proud of his drawings. He knew they weren't very good, Aunt Petunia had said so, but he still couldn't help but feel proud that he'd been able to draw his family so he hung them on the walls of his cupboard with spare tape or tick-tacks he'd found when sweeping the kitchen or sitting room.

Once, he'd drawn the little spider with his family, but he was too small to see and too short to hold hands with, so Harry threw that one away. He'd apologized to the spider after that and told him he'd draw another of just the spider. After he was done and the spider was forever immortalized on paper, all eight, fuzzy legs and googly eyes, Harry had decided the spider needed a name and he'd said so.

The name had to be a good one, not plain and horrid, like Harry's name, but a good, original one, like Dudley's.

With a promise to the spider on the underside of the stairs that he would get a name soon, Harry fell asleep thinking of every single name he knew.

The next day at school, he'd asked his teacher what a good name for a spider was. She'd laughed and asked if he had a pet spider and he said no, but he knew a spider and he needed a name, that's why he was asking her.

She laughed again and then thought a moment. "I like the name Randall. Have you ever heard that name before, Harry?"

"No, ma'am, I haven't. I think it's original, like Dudley's! Thank you!" Harry sat back down in his seat after that, writing the name down quick so he wouldn't forget it.

That night, after he'd made a really nice dinner without any help from Aunt Petunia (and after patting himself on the back again), Harry wrote, as carefully as he could, the spider's new name on the picture he'd drawn.

"I have a name for you now, Mr. Spider. It's Randall. Do you like it?" The spider crawled slowly across his web to a tiny fly caught in his trap. He didn't seem to mind the new name. "My teacher told me it. I've never heard it before and I think it's original so I hope you like it. It's not a bad name like mine so maybe you can be happy with it."


	5. Tag Along

Sometimes, when Uncle Vernon and Dudley were out doing Daddy and Dudley Time and Miss Fig was unavailable and Aunt Marge was doing something and no one else could take time to watch the brat (that's what they called Harry when they didn't want to watch him), Harry got to go with Aunt Petunia when she went grocery shopping. Harry loved going with Aunt Petunia to town. He didn't get to do it often, but he liked when he got to.

When Aunt Petunia had her list of items in her purse and Harry had been strapped into Dudley's car seat, he liked to watch as the other houses on Privet Drive and Magnolia Crest flew by. It was a whole different thing to watch and he thought the things he saw would make a good picture to draw when he got back home.

At the store, Harry had to keep one hand on the buggy at all times and if Aunt Petunia caught him without one on it, she wouldn't hesitate to thrash his bottom right in the store in front of everybody. That'd never happened before though, because Harry was a good listener and he knew not doing what Aunt Petunia said would never get Harry a pat on the head from her.

Sometimes, when they passed by the bakery part of the supermarket Aunt Petunia liked, the lady with the white hat behind the counter would say hello to Harry and ask if he wanted a cookie. Harry would always shake his head no and say he hadn't earned one. Aunt Petunia liked when he said that so he said it every time someone wanted to give him something.

And sometimes, though not very often, someone would come up to them. Sometimes it was a man and sometimes it was a woman. Harry always thought it was someone Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon knew, but then they would walk right past his Aunt Petunia and head straight for him, like he was Dudley!

They would shake his hand not attached to the buggy; shake his whole arm! They would sometimes say "Thank you!" or "It's so wonderful to meet you!" but Harry couldn't ever remember doing anything nice for them or ever even seeing the people before. Aunt Petunia would always twist up her face and push the buggy really fast after that and Harry had trouble keep up and keeping his hand on it so Aunt Petunia wouldn't hesitate to thrash his bottom right in the store in front of everyone.

After they'd finally gotten home, Harry helped put away the food and depending on how long it took at the store, he would either start dinner or go do a chore that he hadn't gotten to yet. Dudley and Uncle Vernon were usually home after Daddy and Dudley time too so Harry had to be extra careful not to disturb them after having a fun day together when he was doing his chore. After dinner was finished, Aunt Petunia did the dishes and gave Harry his share and then sent him to his cupboard.

For as long as his grate was open and light was available to him, Harry got to drawing the pretty houses and gardens he'd seen rushing past him. He tried drawing and colouring sideways so it would look as if the picture was rushing past him, but they never looked right so he always ended up throwing them away the next day before he started breakfast.

He just couldn't figure out how to make the beautiful blur of colours come to life on his paper.


	6. They're Dead and I Hate Them

When Harry had been little (well, littl _er_ ), he'd asked his Aunt Petunia when his mama and daddy would be coming to pick him up, not that he didn't like staying with them, he was just wondering.

Aunt Petunia had sniffed her nose and turned it up, away from him. "They aren't coming," she said sternly. "They're dead."

Harry hadn't cried or anything, he just asked more questions. When had they died? How? Why?

Aunt Petunia answered them, but only so she wouldn't have to later. He wasn't allowed to ask the same question twice.

"They crashed their car while drunk. You were a baby and almost died with them, the lazy drunks."

Harry hadn't known what drunk meant at that time so when he got to school next, he asked his teacher. She'd gasped and asked where he'd heard it. Feeling slightly ashamed from the way Aunt Petunia had called his parents drunk, he lied and said the telly.

His teacher sighed and told him it was when an adult drank adult drinks and got all wobbly. But only bad adults did it. Feeling even more ashamed, Harry thanked her quietly and sat down at his desk, taking out his reading text.

When he got home and when he'd gotten all his chores done and dinner had been made, Harry lay down in his cupboard (this was before Randall had made his home) and cried into his pillow. Why did everyone else have parents? Good parents? Like Dudley's?

Why did Harry have to have drunk, bad parents who tried to kill their baby? He cried and cried quietly until he couldn't cry anymore. He decided not to feel so bad after that. If his parents wanted to drink adult drinks and get wobbly, then that was their choice and Harry didn't care, he just wished he hadn't had them as his parents before they'd died.

They probably had been mean and wobbly and bad all the time and not had time for Harry like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon do. In that moment, with that revelation, Harry decided he hated his parents. He hated them and wished he'd never been their baby. Besides, he had a new family now and they were nice and he lived in a pretty house and no one got wobbly or died in car crashes with their babies.


	7. All Their Fault!

Now that Harry was a little older, he understood a little more about when an adult got drunk. He'd learnt it when a man came to talk to the school about when people drank adult drinks and got wobbly and sometimes got into accidents and died.

He talked about how it was bad and they should never do it or go with people who did do it. Only bad people drank and got wobbly.

Harry wasn't sure how, but some of the older boys learned that his parents had been some of the bad people the man had talked about and how they'd gotten wobbly and died in a car crash with Harry and that's how he got his ugly scar.

Harry wasn't sure, but he thought Dudley might have told them. He didn't know why, but he really wished he hadn't told them. The older boys made fun of him and called him names and made Harry feel ashamed of his parents even though he hated them and pretended like they never existed.

They pushed him in the dirt and wood chips and made car noises when they ran into him. Some even pretended to be wobbly and poked him in the forehead, on his scar.

Harry cried every time they did that. They made him feel terrible for ever having such bad, wobbly parents in the first place.

The teacher caught them one time and she sent them all (including Dudley) to the office for bullying Harry. She took Harry to the nurse's office to get his scrapes sorted out.

"Now why were your cousin and his friends being mean to you, Harry," she asked softly, kneeling down and lifting his head. He was still crying and tears were falling down his cheeks that were covered in dirt and blood from a scratch on his forehead.

"M-My parents," he hiccupped. "T-Th-They we-were w-w-wobbly and crashed t-th-the car! And—And I wish they'd never been my parents because only bad people get wobbly and crash the car!" Harry hid his face in his hands, trembling as he cried.

"Shh, Harry. Shh," the teacher said quietly. "You're parents weren't bad. They just had an accident. I'm sure they didn't mean to crash the car." She lifted Harry's face again and looked in his eyes. "And I bet they feel terrible that you wish you weren't theirs. I bet they loved you very much and still do."

Harry shook his head. "They were mean and stupid and bad and wobbly all the time, Aunt Petunia told me. She said they were lazy and wobbly all the time. They hated me and I hate them!" Fresh tears fell down Harry's face as he suddenly grabbed hold of his teacher and buried himself in her arms.

His whole body shook as he cried himself out. The teacher waited patiently and he thanked her later for putting up with him. She took him to the nurse and she put bandages on all his cuts and let him lie down for awhile because he'd gotten a headache after crying so much.

That night, in his cupboard (because he'd gotten in trouble with Uncle Vernon for getting Dudley into trouble at school), Harry resented his parents even more.

They were the reason he had the ugly scar on his face, the one everyone made fun of and laughed at him for. They were the reason he was stupid and dumb and terrible at school. They were the reason he had to bother Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon for a new family, even though he really did love his new family and would do anything for them. They were the reason his name was Harry; a horrid, terribly plain name.

They were the reason for every bad thing that had ever happened to Harry because if they hadn't been mean or bad or stupid or wobbly, then he'd never have gotten made fun of or been stupid in school or had to bother his Aunt and Uncle for a new family.


	8. Harry Dreams

One day, Harry had a dream of a big black dog.

He'd been terrified at first. Big black dogs were scary and only ever wanted to bite little boys, but this one didn't. In fact, this big black dog seemed to fancy him. He wagged his tail and licked his face and hands and he barked playfully.

He followed Harry around everywhere he went and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and Dudley all said what a lovely dog he had and pat Harry on the head.

The dog sat next to Harry while he worked in Aunt Petunia's flowerbed and followed him while he dusted the house and even helped him pull the rug outside to shake out!

When he was shaking the dirt out of the rug, another dog came. This one was brown and even bigger than the black dog. The two met each other and touched noses like Harry had seen Miss Fig's cats do. Then they sat down next to Harry while he made the rug clean.

Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley thought this new dog was even lovelier and pat Harry on the head again.

In his dream, his cupboard was a little bigger so the two dogs could curl up with him on his cot and Harry was warm and comfy and felt the safest he'd ever felt.

When he woke up, he could barely even remember what colour the second dog was. Had they had names? He couldn't remember. He quickly pulled out a sheet of paper and coloured two giant dogs on it, along with him, Dudley, Uncle Vernon, and Aunt Petunia.

He tick-tacked it up with the others of his family, next to the one of Randall. Speaking of the spider, he looked up at Randall who was still sleeping (he liked to sleep late). "I'll have to think of names for the dogs too!" he told the spider.

"What would be a good name for a dog," Harry asked his teacher.

She laughed like she always did when he asked her a question. "Do you know a dog now?"

"No, I did have a dream about one, though. Two, actually! They were bigger than me!"

"Well, then they'll have to have big, strong names. Let's see… Hmm." She tapped a finger on her chin. "Have you ever heard of Romulus and Remus, Harry?" Harry shook his head. He was stupid, remember, he wanted to tell her. "They are brothers who were raised by a wolf from a story someone told a very long time ago. They ended up making a city called Rome. Do you think those names will do for your dogs?"

Harry nodded happily. "Randall will like them, I think."

"Randall?"

"The spider I know, remember?"

"Oh! How could I forget?" She laughed and sent him back to his desk so they could start afternoon lessons.

Harry carefully wrote Romulus and Remus's names on the picture. He had to have his teacher write them down for him before he left school because he wasn't very sure how to spell them correctly, but now they were on his picture so he could throw the note away.

He looked up at Randall who was crawling around his home. "Do you like Romulus and Remus? I might draw a picture of you and them together. Would you like that?" The spider didn't say anything and kept crawling around. "Yeah, I don't think I should either. They would probably squish you."


	9. Happy Birthday Harry!

It was Harry's birthday tomorrow! July 31! (Aunt Petunia had told him that once when he noticed he didn't know how old he was.) He was going to be seven years old! And now that he was a whole seven years old, Harry really wanted a bicycle. A bright and shiny red one too!

But then again, bikes cost a lot and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had just bought one for Dudley's birthday, so maybe he didn't want one after all. It wouldn't be fair to ask for something so expensive.

Besides, Harry wouldn't ride it much anyways. He didn't think he'd be a very good rider. He'd probably fall off a lot and just hurt himself.

And Aunt Petunia had made a very good point! She'd said he'd be too busy doing his chores and schoolwork to ride a bike. If he got one then the house would get dirty and ugly and not nice at all. Harry full-heartedly agreed with her, nodding his head furiously.

So maybe Harry didn't want a bright and shiny red bike for his birthday. But, maybe he could get some more paper and a few crayons? He was running low and his teacher said they didn't cost much.

Harry went to bed that night with his heart in his throat with excitement as he couldn't wait to see what he got for his birthday this year. He hoped it was as good as the lucky socks Uncle Vernon gave him last year!


	10. A Friend

Since Harry was stupid in school and wasn't very popular, he didn't have very many friends; or any friends at all. The other kids were all smarter than him and he just didn't have the people skills that Dudley had.

One day, the teacher stood in front of her class like she always did, but she hid behind her a new student this time!

"Her name is Hermione Granger and she is all the way from Epping, on the other side of London. Hermione, honey, why don't you sit down at Harry's table. He's the one by the window."

Hermione had very bushy hair and big buck teeth, but she looked very shy and she scurried over to Harry and sat down quietly, taking out her school things for the lesson.

At the first break, the whole classroom (besides Harry and Hermione) had begun whispering about the new student. Dudley, all the way on the other side of the room, said she looked like a beaver. Everyone (except Harry and Hermione) laughed.

With her head hung, Hermione sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

Feeling bad, Harry poked her arm cautiously. She looked up, glaring at him. Harry looked down, face red and feeling horrible.

"What? Are you going to make fun of me too?" she asked crisply, even though she seemed to be struggling not to right out cry.

"N-No. I was just gonna say not to listen to them." Harry kept his head down.

"Why? Don't you believe them? I do look weird."

Harry looked up suddenly. "Not as weird as me. And I bet you're real smart. I mean, I'm not. Smart, that is. I'm kinda stupid, but I still think you look pretty smart." Harry lifted his fringe, even though Aunt Petunia hated when he showed his scar. "See? Everyone says it's ugly, because it is. And I'm stupid; look it too." He smiled. "But you look smart, so you must be."

Someone close to them snickered. Harry flinched, but still smiled at Hermione.

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows and glared at the boy who was laughing. "You're not stupid if you think like that," she said quietly. "That makes you nice."

"Oh, I guess it's nice, but it's true and my Aunt Petunia says not to ever lie, so I don't. See, look at the next grade I get. It'll be a D-. I get those a lot."

Hermione smiled a little. "I-I could help you, if you want. I'm good at studying and I got all As at my last school."

"I dunno. My Aunt Petunia says I'm a hopeless case, so I don't think it's a good idea."

"That's not a very nice thing to say."

"But it's true," said Harry. "My parents were stupid and I in-hair-eated it."

Hermione gave a little laugh. "You can't inherit stupid."

"Well my Aunt Petunia said I did and she's the smartest adult I know." He leaned into Hermione and said in a whisper. "I'm going to be as smart as her one day, though, just you wait!"

Hermione smiled at Harry. He sure was an odd boy. But he was nice, if a bit weird, and he didn't make fun of the way she looked.


	11. Stories on the Telly

Something scary happened to Harry after school one day.

He'd been in the front garden, tending the flowerbed, when a man in a purple robe came up and started staring at him. At first, Harry didn't notice. He was busy making Aunt Petunia's flowers look pretty, but then he felt his neck prickle and he turned around to see the man in the purple robe.

He was standing on the sidewalk and not in the garden so Harry thought it was fine. Uncle Vernon said it was bad for strangers to come and stand on the garden so…

The man kept staring at Harry and he started feeling very bad. His tummy clenched and his hands sweated. He bowed his head as he worked, wishing very much that the man would leave, but he didn't.

Harry heard a crunch behind him and flung his neck around so fast it cracked. The man was a few steps on the garden, closer to Harry.

Harry whined to himself. He was scared. He'd heard of scary looking men taking away little kids and doing bad things to them on the telly when Aunt Petunia was watching it. He didn't want to be taken away from his family. Or have bad stuff happen to him.

But Harry still had a little bit of work left and Aunt Petunia might get mad that he didn't do it. He did it quickly and then ran for the door, sobbing openly, and tears streaming down his face.

Once the door was shut, Harry clicked the lock just in case. His heart was in his throat and he couldn't hear anything past his ears. He wiped his eyes and peeked out the window. The man was gone.

Harry stayed inside for the rest of the day, even though he got a spanking for refusing to tend the flowers in the back garden. But he was too afraid to go back outside anymore.

That night, Harry fell asleep after telling what happened to Randall. He cried a bit more, thinking of the stories on the telly and scaring himself even more.

He never saw the man in the purple robe again.


	12. House Guests

Dudley had company over. And that meant Harry was to stay in his cupboard, not making any noise, and pretending he didn't exist. He had to do that a lot when people came over. Aunt Petunia said it was because he was always bad when they came over so they didn't want to deal with him and look like bad hosts.

He couldn't ever remember being bad so it must have been when he was really little, but it was fine because he didn't think he would like the company his family had. They were always talking about boring things and honestly, he pitied Dudley for having to go through all that boring adult stuff.

Harry much rather liked staying in his cupboard, pretending he didn't exist. It gave him time to think of things to draw, even though he couldn't do that because the grate was closed and it was dark inside his cupboard.

Sometimes, he would doze off and have dreams of Romulus and Remus and Randall and they all could talk and he and them would do fun stuff like play in the garden or chase Miss Fig's cats. Oh! And everyone would say what lovely animals Harry had and they would pat his head like Uncle Vernon did to Dudley.

Sometimes still, Harry would listen in on the boring adult talk to hear if the company said anything about his dinner. If he wanted to be a con-e-sewer of everything, then his food would have to be yummy to people outside of his family too. He always blushed when someone said the mash was lovely or the meat was cooked just right. At least he wasn't stupid when it came to cooking.

Dudley, though, liked to try and get Harry into trouble when his parents had company over. He would stomp down the stairs, sending lots of dust and sand down on Harry making him want to sneeze so badly, but he couldn't unless he wanted Uncle Vernon spanking his bare bottom. He even tapped at the cupboard door to taunt him and try and get him to make a sound.

But, even though Harry was pretty stupid at school, he was smart enough to know not to cross Uncle Vernon when he said "No noise whatsoever, boy!" He'd seen Uncle Vernon paddle Dudley once when he'd been very, very bad. His moustache had twitched and his face had turned purple and he'd pulled down Dudley's trousers faster than lightening.

Nu-uh was Harry going to have that happen to him. No sir, thank you very much.


	13. Strange Things Happening

Once, Harry did something he couldn't really understand how he even did it in the first place.

His teacher was sick that day and had sent a temporary for the day. She was old and wrinkly and had a blonde wig that made her look like a cockatoo.

Harry himself wasn't feeling very well that day either. It was nearing winter and the cupboard got sort of cold during the night. He always tried to bundle up in his clothes and extra socks, but it was never any use. Harry always got sick during the winter.

The temp had them doing busy-body work while she read a housewife magazine. The class was quiet for the most part, only quiet snippets of whispered conversation floated around every now and again.

"Hey, psst!"

Harry continued on doing his times tables, counting in his head and on his fingers and on little tick marks he'd made in the margins.

Something hit his head and Harry looked up to see a boy holding a note to him. "Pass that to Susie, Stupid," he whispered. Harry nodded, taking the note and passing it over to the blonde girl on the next row beside him.

The temp then decided to get up and inspect everyone's work. She leered over everyone's shoulder, pointing out mistakes and offering no help. She tapped anyone's knuckles with a ruler who she thought wasn't working or was goofing off.

When she got to Harry, she saw how far behind his paper was compared to everyone else's. She tapped his knuckles and tsked. "Enough fooling around, boy, and get your work done."

The class giggled and snickered under their breath.

"Or do you want to fail the third grade and not move on with the rest of your friends?"

The class laughed again and Harry knew they were making fun of him because he had no friends. Not since Hermione left just a week after she'd transferred. His ears turned red and he could feel a sneeze coming on.

He tried to hold it in, but he couldn't. The temp was still lecturing him and the class was still laughing and he was feeling more and more terrible because the temp couldn't know that he was stupid because he'd in-hair-eated his parents' stupidness!

Harry sneezed loudly in the middle of the temp's speech on work ethics and her blonde wig turned a dark shade of blue. Everyone was shocked and started laughing, all wondering who had changed their temp's hair colour.

Harry wasn't laughing though. He suddenly felt much worse and he just wanted to go to the nurse's office and then go sleep for the rest of the winter in his cupboard with all his pairs of socks on.

The temp let out a shocked cry and she whipped Harry out of his seat and smacked his bottom soundly with the ruler. Then she dragged him out of the class towards the principal's office.

Maybe he could explain to the temp that Harry was stupid and couldn't work as fast as the others and that he was sick and he had no clue how her hair got to be blue, but that he was sorry anyways. The principal had seen Harry many times before for other stuff and he seemed nice enough to do that for him, because all Harry wanted to do was lie down and sleep forever.


	14. Harry's Rules

There were lots of rules in Harry's family's home. Rules like, don't put your elbows on the table and no wearing a hat inside, but lots of families had those kinds of rules. Then there were Dursley Rules. Those, Aunt Petunia said, were the most important.

Not only were they special rules, but they were Harry's rules.

Do your chores promptly and efficiently. Harry didn't know what efficiently meant when Aunt Petunia first told him so instead she told him promptly and correctly.

Don't make noise. Harry wasn't supposed to be noisy when he did his chores. Uncle Vernon could be doing work for the company he worked at or Aunt Petunia could be trying to take a nap or Dudley could be playing his videogames. And bothering people was rude.

The third rule, Harry liked to call the 'No money, no ticket' rule. He'd heard Dudley watching a Christmas movie once and he'd heard that and it made sense. If you didn't have something to trade, you couldn't get something in return. The third rule was, if Harry didn't get his chores done on time, he didn't get dinner. And that was fair. He'd gone to bed without dinner lots of times, and Harry always tried to do his chores better next time, so he could be an even better con-e-sewer of everything.

The fourth rule was pretty important, because Uncle Vernon had come up with it. And anything Uncle Vernon said was law, that's what Aunt Petunia said.

The fourth rule was Harry could never ever say the word, 'magic'. Harry didn't know why. It's not like magic was something Harry even liked. Frankly, it was rather boring. Even though Harry was stupid at school, he wasn't stupid enough to not know that the magician had stuff up his sleeve. Dudley sometimes hid stuff in his sleeves when he didn't want his Mum or Dad to know what he was trying to sneak into his room upstairs.

But for whatever reason, Harry wasn't allowed to even mention vaguely the word 'magic'. And it wasn't just Harry; Dudley, Aunt Petunia, and even Uncle Vernon weren't allowed to say the word 'magic'. If they did, Uncle Vernon would get real angry; his mustache would twitch like an angry caterpillar, his face would turn an odd pansy purple, and he would yell for Harry to go to his cupboard and for Aunt Petunia and Dudley to go upstairs! Then, while in his cupboard, Harry could hear Uncle Vernon pace around the living room and mutter to himself about 'those people'; freaks.


	15. Freaky People

Harry didn't know who 'those people' were, but he did know what a freak was. He'd heard Uncle Vernon sometimes referring to him as a freaky person when Harry was in the kitchen cooking breakfast or dinner.

Harry didn't understand what exactly made him a freaky person. Then again, he did do some freaky things every now and again. Like when he'd turned his temp's wig blue. But, he thought his sneeze had just been blue and gotten all over her, so… There was that one time he'd ended up on the cafeteria's roof when he'd been running from Dudley and his friends. But he must have just caught a wind in mid-jump.

Maybe those things were what made him a freaky person. Or maybe, maybe his parents were the reason he was a freaky person. They'd made him stupid and ugly and plain already, so what was freaky to them?

What if they'd dyed his insides so every time he sneezed, it was all blue? That sounded like something they would do. They would try and make him a freaky person so no-one would like him. And Uncle Vernon knew they'd made him a freaky person and he and Aunt Petunia were talking about it; about how poor Harry had to deal with being freaky because of his parents.

What if-?! What if 'those people' were his parents? That would explain Uncle Vernon muttering that and saying it with a scowl on his face, under his caterpillar mustache.

That would explain why he called Harry a freaky person.

Harry thought it was nice of Uncle Vernon to not group him with his wobbly, mean, freaky parents.

Maybe someday he would help Harry to learn how not to be a freaky person?


	16. Scary People

One day, one of those scary people in robes who always shook Harry's hand when he went to the store with Aunt Petunia handed him a small toy. He hadn't known what to do with it so he'd looked up at Aunt Petunia, after thanking the man, for what to do.

She'd snatched it out of his hands and threw it in the nearest bin.

Harry was very grateful for that. (Even though it was kind of rude of him. But he still was very grateful that his Aunt Petunia always knew exactly what to do when Harry was scared.)

After she would throw away the small toy or trinket, she would wipe her hands on a sanitizing napkin, and then wipe Harry's too. She would mumble something about germs and then push the buggy real fast down the next aisle, Harry trying his hardest to not let go so she would not hesitate to whip his bare bottom in front of everybody.

In his cupboard, after dinner was made and ate and cleaned up, Harry stared at the dark underside of the stairs as he was in timeout for acting up at the store. He must have let go of the buggy on accident or something, because Harry couldn't remember whining or anything.

Either way, now he was watching the darkness, listening to see if Randall was making any noise. He wasn't, of course, because he was good at making no noise while he worked, like Harry. Harry also thought about the man who'd given him the toy.

First he'd shaken Harry's whole arm, a giant smile on his face as if Harry was the Queen! The man must have been stupid like him to think Harry could ever be part of the Royal Family, like the real pretty Princess Diana. Then he'd pulled a toy out of his sleeve and presented it carefully to Harry. When he hadn't reached out for it, the man had put it into his hands, saying "Thank you, Mr. Potter," then walking away, a skip in his step.

Not lots of people called him Mr. Potter. Well, no-one did except for his teacher and the nurse and the principal. And he still had no idea what everyone always thanked him for. He couldn't remember ever doing anything nice for anyone outside his family.


	17. Bad Days for Bad Boys

Harry was in trouble right now. He was lying on his cot in his cupboard under the stairs and he was in trouble.

Today, while cooking breakfast, Harry had burnt the bacon and spilt Uncle Vernon's coffee all over his work tie. Uncle Vernon had to change and he was late to work all because of Harry.

After that, Harry was sent outside by Aunt Petunia to do his garden chores. He'd stepped on Aunt Petunia's petunias and watered the grass too much and made mud, which Aunt Petunia hates.

Harry got whipped on his bottom and then sent to dust the family knickknacks. There, in the living room, tiptoeing around Dudley as he watched the telly, Harry knocked over one of Aunt Petunia's favourite family pictures. The glass over the picture broke, but the picture was unharmed.

She whipped his bottom again and thrust a laundry basket in his hands, pointing to the mud room. There, Harry washed Aunt Petunia's nice and lovely fuchsia blouse with Uncle Vernon's nice and lovely white work shirts. Aunt Petunia had to run out and buy all new ones before Uncle Vernon got home.

Then at dinner, Harry dropped the jar of spaghetti sauce and it broke and he cut his finger trying to clean it up and Aunt Petunia whipped his bottom once again and this time she sent him to his cupboard where she slammed the door almost before he even got in.

She'd slipped the grate shut and turned the hall light off so Harry was alone in the dark, berating himself for being such a bad boy today.

If he wasn't such a stupid boy he wouldn't get so many things wrong and ruin all of his Aunt and Uncle's nice things that they worked so hard for. But he was a stupid boy and he got everything wrong, always!

Harry frowned at himself in the dark. He looked where all his drawings were and frowned at them too. Then he looked up at the underside of the stairs and looked where Randall lived and glared at him also! Randall never did anything bad! Why couldn't Harry be good like Randall?

Lastly, before Harry fell asleep, hating being such a bad boy, he thought of his parents and how it was their entire fault. Even if Harry was mostly to blame for not being more careful and in-hair-eating their stupiness.

In the morning, Harry decided he would colour himself out of all his family pictures. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn't deserve to put up with him.


	18. Family Portrait

All the pretty pictures in the living room and the hall way and even on the fridge had the family in them. Some were taken by Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon, and some were taken by a man who came to the house with a really big camera and Aunt Petunia paid him money afterwards, and the others were drawn by Dudley. (Harry's weren't hung up around the house because they were ugly and he didn't want to ruin his pretty home with ugly pictures.)

In all of them everyone was standing in the same position. Harry thought it was so no one forgot who was who or something like that.

Uncle Vernon was always on the left, standing with a hand holding his jacket or on Dudley's shoulder or around Aunt Petunia's waist. Aunt Petunia was always on the right, between Dudley and Uncle Vernon, a tight smile on her face. And Dudley was between his parents. Dudley always had something different in his hands.

Harry wasn't in the pictures. He was always sick when the man Aunt Petunia paid to take the pictures came, that or he'd been bad and he was sent to his cupboard early. Dudley just didn't like him and didn't draw him in his own pictures, but Harry didn't care. Dudley could be mean all he wanted, but Harry would always still draw him in his own pictures.

Harry also didn't ever go with his family when they went on vacation. He was never good enough to earn one. But he did get to go to Miss Figg's house. She had cats and gave him old cake that tasted like cabbage, but he ate it to be nice because that's what you did at an old person's house.

Not one of the pictures in his family's house had Harry in it, but Harry thought if he tried hard to not be sick or bad and he did his chores extra careful so he could go on vacation with his family, then he would be able to get in the pictures with them.

That, or he could try hard and not make his pictures so ugly anymore. Maybe, if he watched Dudley colour, he could learn how to make pretty ones that Aunt Petunia and he wouldn't be embarrassed to pin up around the house.


	19. Broken Legs and Promises

One day, Harry broke his leg. He still wasn't very sure how. One minute he'd been playing hide-n-seek with Dudley and his friends and the next, he'd fallen out of the tree and his leg hurt real bad.

Aunt Petunia came outside at his shrieks and she slapped his hands for climbing the tree when he should have been doing the garden work. Then she'd picked him up and helped him hobble through the yard and the house to the car.

Harry had sat in the car for a long time with no one in it. Aunt Petunia had strapped him in Dudley's car seat like when they go to the store together and then went back inside.

She came back out a long time later, her purse in hand and a scowl on her face. Harry's leg was puffy and it hurt to touch.

Aunt Petunia took Harry to the hospital to fix his leg up. The doctor told him he'd been a bad boy for climbing the tree and Harry nodded, saying sorry to the doctor and his Aunt Petunia for bothering them.

Now Harry had a cast around his leg and he had a crutch to help him walk right. It was kind of hard, but Harry was a con-e-sewer of everything so he learned how to use it quick.

Harry didn't have to stand very long anymore. He wasn't allowed to make dinner or breakfast and Aunt Petunia sat him in the living room most days, taking his crutch with her so he couldn't leave and do something else, with a bunch of laundry to fold. And if he wasn't folding laundry or sitting in a chair pushed into a corner so Aunt Petunia could keep an eye on him, Harry was in his cupboard.

His leg would be good as new soon and he could go back to cooking and doing his regular chores, and Harry couldn't wait. Doing nothing but laundry was boring. He planned to make an extra special breakfast and an extra special dinner to say sorry for the trouble once his leg was better and his cast was off. He would even clean the whole house in one afternoon so Aunt Petunia wouldn't have to lift a finger.


	20. Miss Figg's House

Harry was visiting Miss Figg's house today. He'd been bad and not earned his vacation like the rest of his family so he had to stay here and be polite and eat cabbage cake.

Uncle Vernon had come home one day and swept Aunt Petunia into a hug and kiss and pat Dudley on the head and ignored Harry while he cooked dinner. He said he had good news and then set a pamphlet on the table for everyone to see.

"We're going on vacation! To California!"

Harry didn't know where California was, but it must be nice because Dudley shouted with glee and Aunt Petunia smiled happily, kissing Uncle Vernon on the mouth again. Harry finished dinner and he was sent to his cupboard because he'd whined about something or something, Uncle Vernon said. (Harry didn't know how Uncle Vernon could know he'd whined about something or something, since he'd not been here all day, but Aunt Petunia must have told him.)

Anyways, now Harry was at Miss Figg's and she was showing him an album of her cats. She had lots. Lots of cats and lots of pictures of the cats.

Aunt Petunia had dropped him off with his bag of clothes for his week-long stay and Miss Figg gave him chicken noodle soup from a can for dinner before sitting him on the couch to look at cat pictures while the cats made him sneeze as they walked under his feet and on top the couch and everywhere else.

"Why aren't you going with your relatives this time, Harry, dear?" Miss Figg asked him once she'd tucked him into the guest bed. It smelled like cats and made Harry sneeze too.

"I was bad again," he said. "I broke Dudley's toy and burnt dinner last night."

Miss Figg nodded knowingly. Harry liked it when she did that. She didn't laugh when he asked questions like his teacher and wasn't mean like the temps. She understood Harry was stupid and bad and had freaky parents which made him stupid and bad because he'd in-hair-eated it.

"Try and be good next time, Harry, dear," Miss Figg said and kissed his forehead before shutting the door and turning the light off.

Harry ate lots of cabbage cake and sneezed during his week at Miss Figg's house. She didn't make him do anything except play outside in the back garden. She never let him make dinner or breakfast and she always tucked him in and kissed his forehead at night.

Harry didn't understand why she did that. Playing all day and not making dinner was what lazy people did and Harry wasn't a lazy person. (Sometimes, when Miss Figg was distracted by her cats, Harry would take a rag and dust the cat hair and dust from the wood surfaces in her living room.) Besides, Harry was here because he'd been bad and not been good enough to earn a vacation. He was supposed to be punished here.

Miss Figg was weird, but he'd never say that aloud. That was rude and he was supposed to be polite, even though he sometimes heard Aunt Petunia say rude things about Miss Figg when she was gossiping over the phone.


	21. Even Worse Days for Terrible Boys

One time, after a day of Harry being a bad boy, dropping things and knocking things over, Uncle Vernon had come home in a bad mood. Harry was still being bad and breaking things and Uncle Vernon turned purple and he yelled at Harry.

"GO TO YOUR CUPBOARD, FREAK!"

Harry, who had been carrying a tea cup to Aunt Petunia, dropped it. He was frozen solid. He couldn't move even though he knew Uncle Vernon told him to leave.

Uncle Vernon's face stayed purple and it stayed that way until Aunt Petunia scurried over to Harry, around the shattered tea cup, and ushered him out of the kitchen and to his cupboard.

Harry was in tears as soon as Aunt Petunia had him out of the kitchen and in the hall. He knew he'd been bad, but he didn't mean to make Uncle Vernon so mad that he had to scream at Harry to do something. And on top of that, he'd broken another thing!

Aunt Petunia ushered him inside his cupboard and shut the door quietly. She left the grate open and Harry wished she'd shut it so he could cry and berate himself alone in the dark.

But she'd left it open and he could see his pictures of his family with a dark black blob in the middle, holding a colourful stick-Aunt Petunia's hand.

Harry cried into his pillow so he wouldn't bother Uncle Vernon anymore.

Harry calmed down an hour later when the kitchen was quiet and dark and his family was in bed. Uncle Vernon had drunk an entire pot of tea before Aunt Petunia could get him to ascend the stairs for a shower and bed.

Harry was so stupid. He should have known Uncle Vernon would be in a bad mood. He should have been more careful to not break everything. It was times like this Harry wished he could be as good as Randall.

Randall never did anything bad. All he did was quietly make a home and get dinner and never made any noise and made his uncle mad or made messes for his aunt to clean up.

But Harry did. Harry always did everything wrong!

Maybe tomorrow Harry could make Uncle Vernon an 'I'm sorry' breakfast? He would ask Aunt Petunia in the morning for some help so he didn't make any messes.


	22. Was Not Was

Harry never wanted anyone to know, but when Aunt Petunia was in the other room and Dudley was gone outside to play with his friends, and Harry was in the living room or the hallway or in the kitchen, cleaning, he liked to dance along with the music or even hum under his breath.

He thought it was a very silly thing to do, but it was fun. Of course, he was supposed to be doing his chores when he was dancing or humming under his breath, so he could never tell his Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon. He'd get in trouble and he was trying to be good enough to get a vacation with the family. (Even though lying was bad and no way to be good.)

Harry's all-time favourite song, of all-time, forever and ever, was Walk the Dinosaur. He didn't know who sang it, but they were really good and the song was funny and Harry liked to pretend he was a dinosaur whenever it came over the radio Aunt Petunia had on when she wanted some background noise.

When that song came on the wireless, Harry's day would get that much better. If he'd been bad and Aunt Petunia had had to whip his bottom and send him off to do something else while she cleaned his mess, even if he'd done that a million times! If his favourite song came on the wireless, his heart would race and he would pretend to be walking a dinosaur while he dusted the family pictures.

In his cupboard that night, after the song had played and was stuck in Harry's head until he fell asleep, he would sing real quiet into his pillow so Randall and Romulus and Remus could know what song Harry liked best.


	23. I'm Singing and I'm Happy

Harry's favourite lady (after Aunt Petunia, of course) was Vera Lynn. When Aunt Petunia was feeling nostalgic and had the record player on and the lovely voice of Vera Lynn could be heard throughout the house, Harry felt his heart melt and his cheeks burn red.

The lovely music was something he could listen to forever and ever, just as long as Walk the Dinosaur!

Harry didn't have a favourite of Vera Lynn. He loved every song too much to pick just one. When Aunt Petunia had the vinyl on and Vera was singing one of her war songs, Harry would catch himself singing along as he dusted or folded mountains of laundry.

Sometimes, when Aunt Petunia was passing by the living room, Harry would catch her singing along too. Harry liked that he had something in common with his Aunt. That and he didn't feel so bad singing along too when he saw her.

At night, Harry hummed the tunes to the music to Randall after everyone else had gone to bed. Sometimes, Harry even drew pictures of Vera. He'd seen her on the vinyl covers. Harry thought she looked as pretty as the lovely Princess Diana.


	24. Harry's Favourite Class

Even though Harry was stupid in school, he still had a favourite class. He liked history class the best. It was like story time when they'd been littler, except everything was true.

In all of his schoolwork, Harry was the least stupid at history. He tried extra special hard to get more than a D- in that class. (Sometimes he studied hard like Hermione had told him when she'd been there.)

Whenever he got back his D+ in history class, he could smile triumphantly and smirk at wherever his parents were. See? He might have in-hair-eated their stupidness, but Harry was working real hard so he could be as smart as Aunt Petunia one day. He wasn't going to let himself be stupid the rest of his life just because of his stupid parents.

Sometimes, when he got his D+ back in history, he would tick-tack it up in his cupboard next to his family pictures. Some still had the dark black blob holding stick-Aunt Petunia's hand and some had a stick-Harry holding stick-Aunt Petunia's hand. (The ones with Harry were newer.)


	25. I Love My Family Because

One time, at school, the temp made them do a worksheet about their families. Harry loved those worksheets the best. They let him show how much he loved his family to everyone who looked at it.

What is your Mother and Father's name?

Harry always crossed those names out and put in Aunt and Uncle just for him. Petunia Lily Dursley and Vernon Marshall Dursley. They were nice, respectable names.

Do you have any siblings?

Harry wrote in cousins, just for him. Just one – Dudley. He was bigger and taller and older and so he had to listen to whatever he told him.

Do you have any pets?

Harry didn't have any pets, but he did know Randall the spider and Romulus and Remus the dogs from his dreams. Harry thought they counted enough as pets and wrote their names.

What do you and your family do together?

Harry made dinner and his family ate and Harry always felt so nice when they ate it all. He'd write down they'd have dinner together, made extra special by Harry himself.

I love my family because _

Harry loved fill in the blanks because they didn't have a wrong answer. (Sometimes.)

I love my family because _

My family took me in and gave me a nice, pretty home. They gave me Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and Dudley, even though he can be mean sometimes. They love me and I love them even more.


	26. For the End 1

On Harry's eleventh birthday, Harry was collecting the mail after finishing breakfast and giving Uncle Vernon his coffee and toast.

There were bills and a postcard from Aunt Marge from Majorca and… a letter for Harry?

Dropping the letter as if it had burnt him, Harry called for Aunt Petunia. What if the people at the store had figured out how to give him mail and they were sending him letter bombs? Harry had heard about people doing that when Uncle Vernon was watching the news once.

Aunt Petunia came into the hall, scowling at him, asking if fetching the mail was too big a task for him, but as soon as she saw the letter on the floor, she gasped and turned as white as a ghost.

"V-Vernon!"

Harry stepped away from the letter. Maybe it really was a bomb?

Uncle Vernon came up behind his wife, a piece of bacon in his mouth. "What is it, hon?" Aunt Petunia silently pointed at the letter. Uncle Vernon acted quickly and grabbed it up and immediately tore it up and threw it in the fireplace in the living room.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Uncle Vernon always knew exactly what to do.

But then, Uncle Vernon turned on Harry and sent him to his cupboard for the rest of the day. Harry guessed it was so he could be kept away from any more potential mail-bombs that day.

The next day, after finishing breakfast and giving Uncle Vernon his coffee and toast, Harry went to get the mail, just like yesterday. There were three more of the letters. He quickly threw them in the fireplace like Uncle Vernon had done and then he gave the bills to Uncle Vernon to look over.

This continued until the letters just got out of hand. After finding a letter each inside the eggs one morning while making breakfast, Uncle Vernon declared they would be taking a vacation. And Harry was coming with!

They left the same day. Uncle Vernon had them wolf down breakfast and then sent everyone to pack a change of clothes. Dudley tried to bring a bunch of toys instead, but Uncle Vernon yelled at him and before lunch the Dursley family was on their way.

Harry stared out the window, his heart in his throat. He'd never ever been on vacation with his family. He was sure he wouldn't be allowed on the next one because of all the letters he'd been getting, but apparently Uncle Vernon thought it wasn't Harry's fault and that he'd been good enough to come with.

They passed Magnolia Crescent and then, after nearly a whole hour, they were in London and Uncle Vernon was handing them tickets for the Tube.

It was there everything began.

There was a man taller than everyone else, and anyone else Harry had ever seen in his whole life. He stood by one of the walls and made all the adults look like children. Harry smiled and giggled to himself as he was dragged by Aunt Petunia so he wouldn't get lost. They were headed for the Northline train.

Then, all of a sudden, the tall man stood up straight, looking even taller, and headed straight for them. Harry covered his mouth. Maybe the man had seen him laughing and was going to tell him how rude that was. He gripped Aunt Petunia's hand tighter and attached himself to her side.

"H-Harry?"

Oh no… He was one of those scary people who thanked him and shook his hand!

"Harry Potter? Oh, thank Merlin! I nearly missed yeh."

Uncle Vernon turned around as he heard his nephew's name being said. "And who are you, sir? I'll excuse you, but we are in a hurry. My family needs to leave directly," Uncle Vernon said in his business voice. (That was also his no-nonsense voice.)

"I'm Hagrid. Rubeus Hagrid. I've been sent by Professor Dumbledore to take Harry for his school things."

Harry looked up at Uncle Vernon in confusion. What did that mean? Was the tall man trying to steal him away, under the guise of taking Harry school shopping? He hoped not.

Aunt Petunia scowled. "There'll be none of that business." Her face was twisted up into a sour look.

Behind them, their train closed its doors and sped off toward Scotland. "I think it's Harry's decision if he wants to attend Hogwarts or not, not yurs."

Hogwarts? That didn't sound very pleasant. The tall man looked at him and Harry hid himself behind Aunt Petunia, not letting her hand go. "Don't yeh want to go to the school yur parents went to, Harry?"

His parent's school, Harry though bitterly. No, he definitely did not want to go to their school. He shook his head nervously. Uncle Vernon nodded.

"See? There. The boy doesn't want to attend, now leave us alone and stop trying to contact us. Next time I'll involve the officials." Uncle Vernon went to lead his family away to the ticket counter for a new set of tickets, but Hagrid stopped them.

"Harry," he said softly. "Don't yeh want to learn how to become a wizard? To control yur magic and do amazing things?"

H-He—! He said the m-word! Harry glanced over to Uncle Vernon who looked as if his moustache would just fall off.

"I'll have none of it! The boy is not going to learn some hat-tricks from a crack-pot old fool and that's final!" A few people were starting to stare, but Uncle Vernon paid them no attention.

Hagrid bristled and he raised a pink umbrella threateningly to Uncle Vernon He said in a low, angry voice, "Don't insult Dumbledore in front of me." Uncle Vernon took a step back.

"Harry… Do you even know about magic?"

He said it again! Harry shook his head, staying behind Aunt Petunia.

The man stared at him and then his aunt and uncle. "Harry, you're a wizard."

"No, I'm not," Harry said before he could stop himself. He ducked his head. "I'm just Harry," he said quietly.

"Just Harry?" Hagrid gave a great, booming laugh. "Just Harry!" He wiped a tear from his eye. "Harry, you're the most famous wizard in history. But er…" He glanced around him, at the staring faces. "Maybe we should continue somewhere more, er, private."

Uncle Vernon stepped forward again. "No! He's not going and that is final!" Harry nodded quietly. He didn't want to go with Hagrid. He may know his name now, but he was still a stranger.

Hagrid glanced at Harry, who ducked his head again, and then at his umbrella. "Fine, Dursely. Yeh win for now, but don't you forget: Harry will figure out everything and he'll come and study at the best school in all of the United Kingdom."

Harry held his other hand in Aunt Petunia's skirts. That sounded scary, the way Hagrid said it. It sounded as if Uncle Vernon was hiding something from him, from the way Hagrid spoke. But, the only reason Uncle Vernon would do that was to protect him, like when he'd never outright told Harry his parents were freaky and Harry just figured it out on his own when he was little.

Hagrid left and Uncle Vernon had them on the next train to Scotland, unknowingly taking them closer to the place Harry would eventually begin his new life.


	27. For the End 2

Harry and his family were vacationing in Scotland. Harry had just turned eleven the other day and he was on his very first vacation with his family!

They were all in a two bed hotel room currently, eating breakfast. Harry was giving Uncle Vernon a cup of bathroom coffee and handing Aunt Petunia a napkin for her lap. He was wondering what they would do today now that they were finally there.

After breakfast was cleaned up, Uncle Vernon took Dudley out so he wasn't cooped up all day in the tiny room. Aunt Petunia stayed with Harry. She lay on the bed, reading a magazine and Harry sat at the window, looking at all the new sights.

It was mostly just other hotel buildings and old houses, but Harry had never seen them before and they were all magnificent in a new, never-before-discovered way. He wondered where Uncle Vernon and Dudley went and if they thought the sights were just as wonderful.

There was a knock on the door and at Aunt Petunia's nod, Harry went to answer it.

There was a man with long black hair and a scowl to rival Aunt Petunia's on the other side. He wasn't wearing the hotel uniform.

Aunt Petunia was behind him before he could even call her name.

"You," she spat. Harry very nearly thought she was talking to him! But then the man scowled at her and returned the remark.

"Mr. Potter," he drawled, looking down his nose at Harry. Harry flushed, feeling chastised, even though he didn't even know the man. He ducked his head.

"What are you doing here?" Aunt Petunia scowled. "My husband will get the police if he sees you. We already said the boy is not attending. Now good day," she made to shut the door, but it wouldn't budge.

"Now, Mrs. Dursley," the man said in a silky voice, "Why exactly is it that I have to take time away from my school preparations to escort Mr. Potter on a shopping trip?"

Harry, who felt very awkward between the two adults, slipped behind Aunt Petunia. He felt better not being so close to the dark man.

"Mister Potter!" The man snapped. Harry just about jumped out of his skin. "Come with me."

Harry grabbed hold of Aunt Petunia's shirt. He looked up at her. She nodded, though she was still scowling, and she looked as if she had just lost a very large bet.

Nervously, Harry kneaded his hands together after Aunt Petunia swatted his hands away from her shirt. He really didn't want to go with the man, but Aunt Petunia said to so… He took a deep breath and stepped out from behind her.

"No dawdling, Mr. Potter. We've lots to do today after you squandered the rest of the time. School is just next week and you've no supplies."

The man walked almost as fast as when Aunt Petunia ran down the aisle from the scary people who shook his hand and thanked him and Harry had just as hard a time keeping up with him as he did with Aunt Petunia.

"First your books and then your uniform," the man listed out. "Then your wand and a familiar if you must."

"U-Um… Sir?" Harry really wanted to know the man's name, but, he just seemed so intimidating. "C-Could I ask your name?"

The man stopped suddenly and Harry very nearly walked into him. "You may call me Sir or Professor Snape, now hold my arm and shut your eyes."


	28. For the End 3

"Mr. Hagrid told me about the school, Professor Snape. He told me my parents went to the school he wants me to go to." Harry trailed off here. It had already taken all his courage to talk this much to the second strange man in just a few days. "B-But… I don't want to go to their school. Uncle Vernon said I was going to Stonewall High and Aunt Petunia already dyed my uniform for me and I'm already signed up too."

Professor Snape, who was sitting on the bench next to Harry, nodded silently. "But you have been signed up to attend Hogwarts since you've been born and so therefore, you are going to Hogwarts."

Harry knit his brows. "But… I don't want… My parents…" How could he explain his parents had been mean and stupid and wobbly and that Harry hated them? "I don't want to go to Hogwarts, Sir."

"Well, that, Mr. Potter, will have to be taken up with the Headmaster, Dumbledore."

They sat in silence for a while more. The wand shop they were going to next was full to the brim with other late students and Professor Snape hadn't wanted to brace the crowd.

"Why, Mr. Potter, would the little celebrity not want to attend the same school as his esteemed parents? Too much competition for the spotlight?"

Harry looked at him as if he were stupid. "N-No, Sir, it's just… My parents were—My parents were bad. A-And I don't want to go to their school. I hate them," he said quietly.

Professor Snape turned and stared at Harry and Harry squirmed under his gaze. "Why do you hate them, Mr. Potter?"

"They were wobbly all the time… And only bad people do that."

"What is 'wobbly'?"

"They drank adult drinks all the time and they got wobbly and were mean and," Harry sniffed, remembering all the things his Aunt Petunia had told him about his parents, "And they were stupid and I inherited their stupid and they hated me and so I hate them now. " He wiped at the stinging tears in his eyes and ducked his head. "S-Sorry, Sir."

Professor Snape nodded and looked down his nose at Harry, though he didn't look so mean any more. At least, just a tiny bit nicer.

"I-I don't want anything to do with them, Sir. I'm sorry you had to bother with me."

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt something on top of his head. After his heart restarted, he looked up and saw Professor Snape's wrist leading to his head. Professor Snape was patting his head like Uncle Vernon did to Dudley.

He didn't know why, but big, fat, hot tears began streaming down his cheeks and he sucked in a sharp breath as he started crying. He smiled as he felt Professor Snape pat his head.


	29. For the End 4

After the shopping trip with Professor Snape, Harry found himself with a wand that supposedly could do all the things Uncle Vernon said was taboo. Really, Harry wasn't too excited, but he did love his new owl, Hedwig. Her cage took up most of his cupboard, but that was fine. Now he had a real pet, along with Randall (who Harry suspected was really Randall the Third) and Romulus and Remus.

His cot wobbled atop his new trunk filled with his school supplies, but Harry thought it was great fun trying to find the balance point. Tomorrow Uncle Vernon was taking Harry to Charing Cross to take the train to Scotland. Professor Snape had given him a ticket to Hogwarts, even though he still didn't really want to go, but all his school expenses had already been paid for, so it seemed a waste not to.

Harry still wasn't very sure about attending the same school as his parents, but Professor Snape had promised to tell him stories about them so he could decide for himself. Harry wasn't really looking forward to hearing about how his parents drank adult drinks and were mean to everyone, but he was being polite and doing what his Professor said.

Hedwig trilled and fluttered her wings noisily and Uncle Vernon called to quiet 'that ruddy bird!' so Harry poked his fingers between the bars and pet her beak. She cooed softly and nuzzled his finger.

Harry's heart still leapt into his mouth when she did that. He couldn't believe he had a pet now. He made sure she had fresh water and paper everyday and he fed her three times a day. She ate better than Harry himself who only ate twice a day because he was too busy with his chores for lunch.

Hedwig nipped Harry's finger and looked at him in the light the grate allowed into their cupboard. Behind her, a picture that Harry had drawn the day his family had gotten home from their vacation was hung on the wall. He'd spent the whole day in his cupboard so he used the time to make some pictures of the newest addition to his family.

Hedwig's eyes shone eerily in the low light, but Harry stared back, mesmerized. He hoped Hogwarts wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be.


	30. For the End 5

"M-My names Harry," Harry introduced. He shyly held out a hand. Since he'd gotten older he'd become less stupid, but his schoolmates still didn't like him much. Maybe Hogwarts would be different that way?

The red-head who'd helped him onto Platform 9 3/4, shook it and said, "I'm Ron Weasley and—Blimey! Y-You're Harry Potter!"

Harry nodded sullenly. Apparently his parents' infamy was as bad as he thought. He had hoped people could look past them and see just Harry and not his stupid, bad parents.

"D-Do you really have the… you know?" Ron motioned to his forehead. Harry nodded again, brushing his fringe down so Ron wouldn't see it. It was ugly and Aunt Petunia didn't like when he showed it to people.

"Oh man! You're the most famous wizard ever! Probably more than Dumbledore and Merlin!" Ron was bouncing in his seat. "And you're right here!"

Harry knit his brows. "What am I famous for?" Maybe he'd finally learn what all those people had shook his hand and thanked him for.

"What are you—? Blimey! You don't know? Have you been living under a rock your whole life? How can't you know how you're so famous?!"

The compartment door opened suddenly and Harry jumped. He was so nervous.

"Excuse me, but have you seen a frog? A boy named Neville's lost his and—Harry?"

Harry started again and ducked his head. Oh no.

"Harry Potter?" The girl stepped in front of him.

Harry shrunk down. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"It's Hermione. Hermione Granger! Don't you remember? We were in class together in second form. Though I left after just a week."

Harry looked up. "Hermione?" Sure enough, the bushy-haired buck-toothed girl Harry had met in his second form class was standing in front of him. He blushed and looked back down. She must have heard the rumors about his parents too, then.

"It's wonderful to see you again. I never forgot what you told me. It was the nicest thing someone ever told me." She sat down and looked at Ron. "And you are?"

"Ron Weasley," Ron said in a rush.

"A pleasure." The two shook hands and Hermione started talking about all the books she'd read to prepare for school.

"So you and Harry knew each other before now?" Ron asked in wonder. Meeting a celebrity and one of the celebrity's friends all in one day! And on the train to school no less!

"We shared a class in Muggle elementary when we were little. Though, I left to a different school after a week. My parents are dentists, you see."

"What are dentists?"

"People who work with teeth."

"Is it dangerous?"

"No… not really. Though, once this boy bit my father," Hermione giggled at the memory and Ron just stared. "Harry was the only person in the class who was nice to me. Everyone else just made fun of the way I look. He said some very nice things, though," she giggled again, "I did think you were a little odd. Sorry."

Harry shook his head. He hadn't talked much since leaving home. He never really talked much anyways. Harry was still nervous that everyone would find out the truth about his parents and hate him and make fun of him and not be his friend like during elementary.

"What House do you think you'll be in," Ron asked as the sun set. The train was nearly to the school and they all had already changed into their school robes.

"Ravenclaw, I think," Hermione said thoughtfully. I read that that's the House of the scholars."

Ron laughed. "Yeah, all the nerds and book-heads go there."

"Well, where do you think you'll go?" Hermione asked in return.

"Gryffindor, of course. My whole family's been there. But, I'm afraid I'll not get in and they all will hate me for it," Ron said. He'd leant in and said the last part quietly and Harry and Hermione took it as something Ron truly was afraid of.

"What about you, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"I-I don't know," Harry answered truthfully. "I don't think I'll fit into any of them."

Ron laughed. "Of course you'll fit in! You're Harry Potter! Any House would pay to have you! But you'd better get Gryffindor so we can stick together."

Ron playfully punched Harry's shoulder and Harry nodded shyly while simultaneously worrying over not being able to be sorted into a House.


	31. For the End 6

There was so much food at the table!

Newly Sorted into Gryffindor, Harry was now squished between Ron and Hermione. He stared at the food and watched as everyone else started filling their plates. Was that how meals at a boarding school went? Didn't the teachers eat first and then the students? What about older students before younger ones?

Harry waited for everyone else to start eating before he got his own meal. He glanced at Hermione and Ron's plates and got the same things they did. He ended up just pushing most of it around his plate, full after just a few bites. His nerves wouldn't let him eat very much.

Now he was waiting for everyone else to finish. Did everyone do their own dishes? Was there a rotation? He felt so far out of his comfort zone…

Suddenly, everyone's plates were spotless again. And in place of the chicken and veg, cakes and cookies and puddings and pies now took their places!

Harry was full to bursting, but he took a little bit of chocolate pudding so he wasn't the only one with an empty plate.

After dessert, Headmaster Dumbledore bid his students a good night and the prefects and Head students escorted the younger students to their dormitories.

Harry stuck himself to Ron's side as they climbed the moving stairs with the Ravenclaws. He saw portraits hanging for miles in all directions. And they moved! And talked! Everything was so different from home with his family. None of their pictures talked or moved.

"Boys on the left and girls on the right," he heard a boy with red hair call. Ron told him that was his brother Percy. The two waved good night to Hermione and followed the rest of the first years up to their dorm.

There was a round room with a large furnace in the middle. Each bed had a window on one side and at each end of bed, there was a trunk. Harry found his near the far end of the room, furthest from the door. Ron's bed was to his left and to his right was the boy named Neville who had lost his frog.

While Harry was collecting his new pajamas that Professor Snape had insisted he get and his lucky socks from Uncle Vernon, someone said, "So are you really Harry Potter?"

Harry jumped about two feet. Ron beat him to replying. "Yes, he is, but leave off him. We're all knackered."

Harry smiled to himself as he shut the curtains around his bed to change. No one had ever stood up for him like that, or ever really. It made his insides all warm and fuzzy. Maybe… Maybe Ron was his friend now? And Hermione too? He hoped so with all his warm heart.


	32. For the End 7

They had lied. Since… Forever. They had lied his whole life. And he believed them.

But… His family loved him. He loved them. They only lied to protect him. …Right?

"Your parents, James and Lily Potter," Professor Snape said in his silky voice, "were murdered on the night of Halloween when you were just a baby. Not once have I ever seen Lily or James drunk or 'wobbly' as you put it." Professor Snape had a scowl on his face and it looked like it was real hard for him to say what he was saying.

"They loved you very much and they ultimately died for you."

"So they… They… Loved me? And they didn't—didn't get wobbly?" Harry's head hurt so much; everything was spinning and topsy-turvy. What had happened to everything he knew?

"They didn't hate me? At all? Not even a little?"

Professor Snape shook his head quietly.

Harry felt hot tears stream down his face. "So they… Loved me." He looked straight at Professor Snape, something he hadn't done before. "The whole time? And they weren't mean or stupid?"

"The whole time. Lily and James—" Professor Snape stumbled over his father's name "—were the kindest parents a boy could hope for."

Harry nodded slowly. One thing still confused him.

"Then why would Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon lie to me? They made me hate my parents and think they were bad people. I thought they were protecting me from them. But… they weren't?"

"I don't know exactly why your relatives would lie to you, Mr. Potter, but I can say without a doubt that they did lie to you and you should not believe them."

Harry finished the day up in the Owlery. Hedwig spent her days here and flying around the Forbidden Forest. Other times she would sit with Harry in the dormitory at midnight when Harry couldn't sleep because of his nerves.

Harry sat in a far corner, stroking Hedwig's soft down. She trilled softly, nuzzling his fingers and cooing to him, saying it was alright, he could cry. She was there. She loved him.


	33. For the End 8

Nothing extra special happened that year. Harry learned they would take Ministry set exams in his fifth and seventh years, but that was about it.

As the school year drew to a close, he worried over returning to his family. Professor Snape had told him all about how his family had lied to him, but some tiny part in the very depths of his brain told him that it was Professor Snape who was lying, trying to get him to turn on the only family he had.

Besides worrying, Harry had made friends. Hermione and Ron were his two best friends that he could ever have. Then there was Neville and Seamus and Dean and Thomas. Also the twins, Fred and George, who were a few of Ron's older brothers.

They all were nice to him and not one of them made fun of him or bullied him.

He also had Hedwig who could keep him company during the summer since he didn't want to bother his family to go out of their way so he could visit his friends. Ron lived very far away and he had no clue where Hermione lived now.

As Harry was dragged by Ron to the train to lead back to Kings Cross, he glanced back at the large castle that he now called his second home.

Hopefully he still had a first home when he got back to his relatives.


	34. From the Start 1

In the early morning hours of July 31st in 1980, a little black-haired boy with large, green eyes was passed to a red-haired woman with the same green eyes. A man with equally black hair and hazel eyes stood beside the woman and her child.

"He's perfect," the mother said softly as she stroked the new babe.

"He's ours," the father prompted proudly.

"Are the others here?" Mama asked. She looked ragged, her fiery hair falling out of a loose bun, skin still a bit sweaty and pale, but altogether looked relieved and proud and happy.

"In the waiting room. Padfoot's probably seduced all the Mediwitches and gotten all their felly numbers."

"It's telly or telephone, James," Mama laughed. "And he wouldn't do that with Remus right there."

"I dunno, Lils, Padfoot's an awful horndog," James joked.

"Oh, just let them in to see the new generation of pranksters."

As the three other members of the small family gathered in the labor room, they all gawked at the tiny person wrapped securely in his mother's arms.

"His name is Harry James Potter," Lily explained. "After James's father."

"Who wants to hold him?" James asked. He passed the baby from Lily to Sirius, who was unusually tame this morning.

"He looks just like you," Sirius said to both of them. "But, I wonder which brain he's got," he smirked.

"Mine of course," James and Lily both sad at the same time. They laughed.

"How do we know he hasn't got Moony's brain instead? I heard all those times he read to your tummy. Little Harry must already be a little egghead. I'll bet he's got to use glasses too."

Sirius passed Harry to Peter who held him for a short time before passing him to Remus.

"If he's got my brain, then all the luck to him. At least it's not yours," the werewolf shot to Sirius. "He'd be thinking of nothing but filth."

"Hey, hey! My son's going to think nothing but Quidditch!" James cut in.

"He'll be well rounded and versed, thank you very much," Lily said finally.

The small family all laughed and let the joy of the arrival of their newest member soak in. They celebrated and cheered (quietly of course, the baby was sleeping and they were in a hospital after all) and had merry times.


	35. From the Start 2

Harry loved his family.

Mama gave him milk and hugs and Papa made the wind blow through his hair. Unca Pafoo made bright lights and loud, funny noises and Unca Peer gave him chocolate. And Unca Mooey read him bedtime stories and pet his hair.

Harry got all the attention and he liked it that way.

Like one time, when Mama was still sleeping and Papa snuck out of the bed with Harry to make the wind blow through his hair and then Unca Pafoo and Unca Mooey came and they ate breakfast in the living room.

After that, Unca Pafoo made a big black dog appear and he played with Harry all afternoon, helping him sit up and take a few steps every now and again. He even let Harry tug on his tail and ears when he needed help up.

Then at naptime, Unca Mooey lay down on the couch with Harry and read from a nice fairytale book until he fell asleep. (Unca Mooey fell asleep first! Ha!) They slept together until Mama woke Harry up for dinner and then they all ate at the table in the kitchen.

Mama made the best food. Everyone thought so.

After dinner, Mama took Harry up to the bed and they fell asleep together while Mama talked to him about his day.

Harry fell asleep in his Mama's arms in their bed and later Papa came in and they all slept together, Harry's family.


	36. From the Start 3

Unca Mooey said a bad word today.

He was frowning and pouting like Harry did when someone didn't pay attention to him, but Harry never said bad words because he only knew a few words all together and none of them were bad.

Unca Mooney said the bad word and everyone gasped and frowned at him. Unca Mooey just sniffed and stalked away to the kitchen where he drank some hot chocolate. Harry crawled after him. He was probably just sad or angry and Harry knew how to make Unca Mooey happy and smile.

Unca Mooey was just staring at his drink. He was probably so sad he couldn't remember how to drink from his big boy cup. Harry sometimes had trouble with his big boy cup too.

Grabbing hold of Unca Mooey's chair, Harry climbed so he stood next to his Unca. "Mooey sad? Mooey ang-y?"

Unca Mooey looked down at Harry. He had tears in his eyes and he was real pale, like when Mama got sick with the foo.

Unca Mooey picked Harry up and sat him in his lap and pat his hair. "I'm not sad or angry, Harry. Just tired. Uncle Padfoot kept me up all night whining about whether or not to take you to the park."

"Pawk?" Harry asked, hopefully.

Unca Mooey laughed. "Yes, park. He said he didn't want to take you, but I did so we stayed up all night deciding. Have you been a good boy? Do you get to go to the park?"

"Yes! Yes! Harry goo! Harry goo!" Harry practically shouted, bouncing in Unca Mooey's lap.

Mama came in, laughing. "What's going on in here? Is Mister Grumpypants spoiling Harry?"

"I was just telling him about the park and he exploded," Unca Mooey said with a smile. Harry smiled with him, nodding.


	37. From the Start 4

Sometimes, outside, Papa turned into a great big Bambi. Well, Mama called it a Bambi, Papa called it a Buck. But it had great big pointy things on its head and soft fur and he let Harry ride on him. He rode on Unca Pafoo too, but it wasn't as fun as Papa's rides.

Unca Peer turned into a mouse and Harry was too big to ride him, but he had a fuzzy tail that gave Mama the 'heebie-jeebies'. Unca Mooey didn't turn into anything. But he did give Harry piggyback rides and rides on his shoulders to touch the ceiling.

Harry wanted to turn into something too! He wanted to play Bambi and Doggie and Mousy with Papa and Unca Pafoo and Unca Peer, but he couldn't because he couldn't turn into an animal just like Unca Mooey and Mama.

He asked Mama one day if she could, but she just laughed and said only gross boys did that. Harry wasn't a gross boy, he was a good boy, Mama said that when she tickled his tummy and blew raspberries.

Maybe if he got dirty he could turn into an animal? He would have to get Unca Mooey dirty too somehow.


	38. From the Start 5

Mama had a friend that made Papa and Unca Pafoo frown and whine like Harry when he was being fussy. They called him Snivellus, but Harry couldn't say that so Mama's friend was Unca Sivvy to Harry.

When Unca Sivvy came over to visit Mama, Harry would sit in her lap and watch the scary looking man. Harry always tried to get him to play, but he never did. Unca Sivvy wasn't very fun.

He couldn't turn into an animal, he didn't give Harry anything, and he didn't even pay attention to Harry! But he made Mama smile when all she did was frown and knit her brows together, so Harry forgave him for not being fun.

"Are you sure you don't want to hold him, Sev?" Mama offered, nodding her head to Harry in her lap, who was chewing on a teething ring.

Unca Sivvy shook his head. "You know I'm not a child person, Mrs. Potter."

"Oh, you call me Lily or I'll hex you into oblivion, Severus Snape!" She laughed. "That or I'll make you hold my son." She smiled and laughed some more. Unca Sivvy didn't.

"Unca Sivvy," Harry said around his ring.

The two adults looked at him, surprised.

"Unca Sivvy nie. Pay Harry?"

Unca Sivvy looked at him like he was stupid. He turned to Mama. "What did he say?"

Mama giggled. "He said you were nice and asked to play with him. Come on, Mr. Spy, why don't you play with the baby?"

Unca Sivvy shook his head again. "I should be leaving soon. Dumbledore wanted a word."

"Oh, well… When you have time again, come visit. You know I love having you over, Sev." Mama touched his shoulder and Unca Sivvy blushed a tiny bit and then he left and Harry and Mama began to play with his stuffed animals.


	39. From the Start 6

"Well, Prongslet," Unca Pafoo said as he carried Harry down the stairs after waking up from his nap. "What are we gonna do today? Ride broomsticks? Take a spin on the ole motorbike? How about some good old fashioned pillaging?"

Harry looked at him and made a bubble with his mouth. It popped and Harry laughed.

"Lunch it is!"

Unca Pafoo sat Harry down in his highchair and gave him some mushy food that Papa gave him when Mama didn't cook. It was warm and didn't taste good, but Harry had learned that after eating all his food, fun, good things happened, so he ate every bite that came his way.

"Now," Unca Pafoo said, "You and me are gonna play until Mama and Papa get home. Maybe we'll get some visitors? Uncle Moony said he'd come over to read to you later."

Unca Pafoo laid Harry down on the floor and charmed a few of his stuffed animals to walk and float around. Then he got down on the floor too and turned into the doggy and jumped around Harry, barking softly and snuffling his hair.

Harry laughed and laughed. The doggie's nose was cold and wet and made him shiver when it touched him, but it was funny because the doggie would jump back and then do it again!

Harry and Unca Pafoo played all day until Unca Mooey came through the green fire to read to him after eating dinner. Unca Mooey laid down in Mama and Papa and Harry's bed with Harry and read from a book with lots of pictures. Harry fell asleep next to Unca Mooey and the two slept until Mama shook them awake.

Harry reached out for her and she picked him up. He was still mostly sleeping, but his Mama smelled good and she was warm and felt nice. Harry curled in her arms and fell back asleep, nuzzled into his Mama's breast.


End file.
